


One-shots

by Spoopyre



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime), ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: A Lot of Gay, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Gay Witches, M/M, OCs - Freeform, One Shot, basically me just, torturing my faves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoopyre/pseuds/Spoopyre
Summary: Short snippets that I've started but will probably never finish.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be multiple fandoms and i'm totally up for suggestions although be aware I may not do all of them. This is really just a place for me to put my 'procrastinating writing my main fics' stories. 
> 
> I'll also add more tags as I go along :)
> 
> (also this may or may not be totally based off of Lexie Grey's death on Grey's Anatomy)

Death has never been a stranger to Peter Parker. In the short twenty-one years of his life, he has faced it more times than he can count. Hell, this isn’t even the first time he’s been trapped under something. It feels different this time though, more… final.

His lungs heave as he gulps in air and his eyes flit around. The leaves are blurry as they sway, the gentle breeze whistles through them easily. This is nice, he thinks. His body aches and something in the back of his mind says he should probably be concerned about the lack of feeling in his legs. It doesn’t last for long, as the heavy weight on his pelvis is shifted suddenly and it doesn’t sound like his own voice when he lets out a scream loud enough to startle the birds.

His cries of ‘Stop! Stop! Please!’ sound far away to his own ears. It reminds him of the first shot he had gotten. Uncle Ben had had to wrestle him into his lap just to get him to stop moving.

A fuzzy face appearing above his own makes him blink in surprise, tears rolling relentlessly down his temples. He’s crying now, and the voice in the back of his head is definitely yelling. _Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger._

“-eter! Peter!” The voice slowly comes into focus above the ringing. With a couple more blinks, the face becomes recognizable as Tony. Warm, callused hands cup his face and he sighs at the familiar touch. Everything hurts. Now that he’s more aware, his entire body feels like he’s been run over a train, which he does in fact know what that feels like. He can’t feel his legs very well and when he looks towards them, all he can see is a very big and very heavy piece of their jet.

He lets out a whine, letting his head fall back into Tony’s hands.

“Dad…” he whimpers. When he looks up at the man, he can see blood tracing it’s way down his forehead, nearly dripping into his eyes, which now only hold concern. His hands grip Peter’s face just a little bit harder.

“You’ll be alright Bambi, just hold on. I need to go find the others, maybe they can lift it.” he says. Peter cries out as he moves to stand, clutching his wrist probably hard enough to break.

“Do- Don’t leave me,” he pleads. He can feel his lip start to wobble again and Tony looks like he’s about to give in before he hears leaves rustling behind Peter’s head. He can’t turn to see, but by the way Tony’s posture relaxes he can tell it’s friendly. Tony leans down and pets his hair.

“Look who’s here Pete…” he says gently. Sneakers come into view, which then turn into knees, which hit the ground harder than he expects them to, as if they had buckled. Once they lower down to see Peter, it’s hard not to smile. It’s Harley. His face is a bit dirty, bruises litter his arms and one on his jaw, but it seems like his suit took the brunt of the damage. He smiles the smile Peter loves so much and it almost eases the pain a little.

“Hey darlin’” he greets. His eyes are already shining, so Peter tries his best to hold his hand out to him. He takes it and grips like if he lets go, Peter will disappear. Tony reaches out and squeezes their interlocked hands. His eyes seem to stare into Peter’s soul.

“I love you bud, I'll be right back,” he promises. The love in his eyes makes Peter’s heart ache, but he gives a big smile anyway.

“I love you too Dad…” he croaks out. Tony squeezes again and stands quickly and Peter knows that if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t be able to leave. They watch him go until he disappears and Harley turns back to him. He’s wheezing a bit now and from what little medical knowledge he has, he knows it isn’t a good sign.

“I don’t think my healing is working,” he absentmindedly sways their hands as he says it, trying to distract himself from the ice cold fear running up his throat. He coughs a bit and judging from the wet drops on his chin he thinks it isn’t just fear. He tries to think about all the times he’s been in this kind of situation before. Tony has always saved him just in time.

The breeze from earlier picks up a bit and it moves Harley’s slightly curled hair like he’s in a movie. Add that to his eyes shining with tears and the small amount of sunlight leaving leaf like shadows on his face and you’ve got somebody irresistible. He doesn’t hear what Harley says about his healing factor. Peter wants to kiss him.

“You’re beautiful, d’you know that?” he whispers. Harley laughs wetly and uses his free hand to wipe his cheeks.

“You’re stuck under a plane and you still only like me for my looks,” he teases. It makes Peter laugh, but he cuts off with a pained gasp as he moves. Harley crawls closer to Peter and chooses to press a kiss to his forehead. It’s shaky because by now Harley is definitely crying, but it holds the same warmth as always.

“Harley…” he wheezes. He feels kind of tired now, but he’s able to keep his eyes open. The other leans back to look Peter in the face, his hand comes up and pets down a loose curl. It’s soothing and it makes Peter want to cry. Harley answers with a hum.

“I’m-I’m dying,” the urge to cough again gets stronger the longer he talks. He can see how much the words hurt Harley. He watches as his eyes squeeze shut and he gasps as if Peter had just punched him in the stomach. He starts to shake his head a bit before he suddenly looks up and straight at Peter.

“No. No, you are not dying. Tony will be back any second and they’ll get this thing off of you and we’ll get you home and you’ll- you’ll be fine,” he cries, his voice breaking on the last word. It makes Peter tear up too.

“You can’t die! We’re-we’re getting married, remember?” he lifts their hands to show the red and gold engagement rings. He does remember, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. There had been tears and a lot of makeup kisses because Peter had thought they were breaking up, but it was probably the happiest night of his life. He remembers how handsome the other had looked and how his heart had swelled with more love than he thought he could handle.

His lungs burn now, and he has to blink a few times to keep his vision focused. He smiles and nods. Tears roll down his cheeks and now they’re both crying.

“Remember what we talked about? We’ll adopt some kids and they’ll run around our yard and Tony can yell at them to be careful before they break something,” Harley says. Peter nods, trying to focus on breathing. It’s getting harder and harder.

“So-” a breath, “so Morgan can have… friends,” he smiles at the thought. Harley, playing with their kids. Giving them the best life they could have. Tony and Bruce teaching them all they could ever know about science, Bucky and Nat could teach them some self-defense.

“Tony would- would have a field day…” he says. Harley bites his lip and nods.

“We’re gonna have the best life, Peter…we’re gonna be so happy...you and me against the world right?” Harley whispers. He leans forward and presses his forehead against their thumbs. When he raises back up, Peter is trying his hardest to stay. He’s tired. His chest jerks as his body tries to get more oxygen.

“You and me… against… the world…” He gasps out. He likes the sound of that. He smiles. He knows it’s time. His hand squeezes one more time before he lets go.

And so Harley watches as his favorite light in the world dies.


	2. lesbians for the win!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uhh well this is a VERY short snippet I wrote of my OC's. Vonda and Rowanna, two very in love witches. I never finished it, but I always thought it was cute. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you guys ever want any of these completed or even suggest something you'd like to see a short one-shot of, any ideas are welcome :)

“I’ve told you before возлюбленная, it’s only going to be a few days and then I’ll be back” Vonda strolls across the room to stuff more clothes in her case. She has that look on her face, the one when she bites her upper lip and furrows her brows, the one that tells me she’s anxious about something.

“I know, but this one seems more dangerous, I can’t stand the thought of you not coming home.” I walk towards her. Every nerve in my body tells me to hug her, to reach around her waist from behind and squeeze. I want to feel her hair fall off her shoulders and into my face when she turns around to hug me back, but I don’t. I know how she is when she’s like this. She has to do it. She has to want it.

“I know darling, but I promise I’ll be careful. When I get back we’ll even go out with Am to that cute little cafè you like alright?” Now she does turn around. Her cool hands cup my cheeks, her thumbs rubbing them in a comforting movement. She’s taller than me by a lot so her hair does fall down slowly off her shoulders when she leans over. I’ve always loved her hair. Shiny like black satin.

Before I can answer, she leans further and touches her lips to mine. It’s meant to be a chaste kiss, most likely so she can get back to packing, but I pull her down for a second longer. She rubs her lips together when we pull away, and I can already tell some of her lipstick had rubbed off on me.

“Alright,” I mumble out. She could get me to agree to anything. She pushes her forehead to mine quickly before standing back up and returning to her case. For a moment, I contemplate going to help her, but a series of knocks prevent me.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry,” I assure, already walking to the door.


	3. Witch friends go to a greenhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is WIP that I highkey abandoned and I found this sitting in my Docs :p

"I can't believe you dragged me into this" Ambrosias, or Am, scoffs. She's heard him say this line a thousand times, and a thousand times she's assured him that it was fine. 

"It's not a big deal, it's not like anybody comes here anymore," she says. It was true. The greenhouse, a small little building in the back gardens of the academy was abandoned in favor of the bigger, better conservatory built into the school.

"Besides, you've been wanting to make this elixir since we were little and they have all the stuff you need." She pauses when the weight behind her stops following her, the hand gripping hers falls slack. When she looks back at him, his eyes are wide and his head tilts to the side like a confused puppy. 

"How do you...?" He whispers, probably unaware he's even talking. She lightheartedly rolls her eyes and gives him her best smile.

"I do listen every now and then you know" she says. He doesn't say anything else, which isn't unusual, but he gives her a nod and she turns back around. The bottoms of her boots are soft enough to not make too much noise as she hurries towards the structure. The fall air is cool and she mentally curses the deans for making the ladies wear these stupid dresses for the ceremony. 

"How are you even certain they have the right herbs?" Am questions. He lets go of her hand as they get closer in favor of simply walking beside her. His dark hair is pulled back into a bun of sorts, a messy thing that he'll probably have to redo later. He lets his brow furrow and Rowanna thinks it makes him look a little too much like his father.

"There are books on these things you know, not everyone can be born all knowing like you" she muses. He rolls his eyes.

"I'm not all knowing, my mo-"

"Yes, yes I know, your mom taught you." She sighs. She doesn't mean to sound exasperated. His mother is a lovely woman that she's met on many accounts. She thinks she's just jealous. After all, nobody offered to teach her how to fight. No, that was something she had to learn on her own. 

The door of the greenhouse is surprisingly easy to open. The first thing she smells is dirt. Wet dirt, more earthy compared to the stuff outside. Plants line the walls and the rows in the middle. Some flower pots even stand guard at the doors.

She could sort of see the appeal. It had a peace to it, not to mention the warm contrast to the weather outside sends pleasant chills up her exposed thighs. 

She steps to the side to let Am through and just watches as he takes it in. They were told not to come here, especially as kids, as it was considered a safety hazard because of rusted metal and the fact that nobody had been taught which plants healed you and which gave you an extra toe. 

This is the first time either of them has seen it up close. She takes pride in the small smile that graces Am's face. It's been way too long since she's seen it.

The greenhouse isn't spectacular by any means, it's actually quite small compared to the new one, but she guesses it's the thought of finally doing something that seemed off limits. Almost like asking your teacher how old she is or finally sitting with the cool kids at dinner. 

He fiddles a bit, walking calmly through the rows. He touches the ones she guesses are safe and hovers over the ones that probably aren't. It doesn't make a difference to him. Every plant is a good plant, or at least that's what he's been telling her.


End file.
